


Falling in

by Locussee



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Domestic, Drinking, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Recreational Drug Use, Sharing a Bed, Vis a vis el shitty Oasis, Zurena, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Locussee/pseuds/Locussee
Summary: The evolution of Macarena and Zulema relationship portrayed by five times they shared a bed. Repost.
Relationships: Zulema Zahir/Macarena Ferreiro
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80





	1. Envy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey.
> 
> This is a repost of a fic i wrote months ago. I had to delete my account because someone I know discovered my account and let’s say I’m not out so it’d have been pretty awkward.
> 
> I’m sorry about deleting my stories. This time, they’ll stay here on ao3, I promise.

**One**

They had robbed jewelry again. Their third break-in together and all of them went wonderfully. The reason? They knew to not trust each other. You can’t deceive a person always on guard. But none of it mattered, Macarena didn’t have any intention to betray Zulema. She experienced loneliness after her release, and it may sound weird, but she never felt happier than now. They weren’t friends, that’s obvious, but during some point these past few months, they learned to share their space. Zulema would do the laundry one week while she would cook. A perfect domestic life. Perhaps they became too old to argue on such matters.

Their only disagreement happened the first day when they realized only one bed fit in the trailer. They bought a couch, but it took them only one night to learn they couldn’t sleep on it unless they wanted back pain for the rest of their life. That’s when Zulema suggested hour-guard. They split the night into two watches and turn over every week. That way, they slept at different hours, which was the smartest decision. Both needed to be careful as fugitives. It took her a lot of night to trust the other woman to not kill her in her sleep, but she understood Zulema didn’t have anywhere to go just like her. One day they’ll probably try to kill each other again, but for now, they were content with their situation.

Imagine that.

These last few months went smoothly, they stuck to this sleeping arrangement... until now.

_ The moment they entered the trailer, she put the bag down and headed for the bed. _

_ “What are you doing?” Zulema said behind her back _

_ Without responding, Macarena lay down, face buried in the cushion. She could sense sleep already getting here, but a harsh hand on her shoulder interrupted her plan. _

_ “Get up, you’ll sleep after your watch.” _

_ “Fuck off.” _

_ The grip on her shoulder grows harder, but she just ignore it. If Zulema could fight her on this, that meant she was alert enough to take the first watch. _

_ “Get the fuck out of here, I want to sleep.” Zulema groaned, almost whining, and she laughed hearing this tone coming out of such a scary woman. _

_ “Then sleep, I don’t care.” _

_ She expected Zulema to push her out of the bed with force, but with surprise felt a body crashing down near her. This robbery exhausted both of them. She knew her partner didn’t sleep for 24 hours and maybe it’s selfish of her to not get up but she’s just tired. They encountered no persons before, these watches were useless, that’s what she kept telling herself as she fell asleep. _

_ “I swear Rubia, you better get up now or you’ll regret it." was the last thing she heard _

That happened seven hours ago. As she woke up, Macarena decided to deal with this later because

Now, something else was distracting her.

A warm body.

God, it felt weird to wake up next to someone. When was the last time? In jail with Rizos? Macarena had a few one-night stands before joining Zulema, but she never stayed the night. She completely forgot the comforting presence of a warm body sharing her bed. A steady soft breath tickled her cheek and eyes still closed. She let herself pretend to be in the arms of a lover, not a murderer. It turned out a simple thing to do. All these domestic things? A fucking lie, but even damaged people need some daily routine. However, she knew playing with reality was dangerous, that’s why she opened her eyes.

It was the first time she saw Zulema asleep, and it amazed her how she looked like a normal person. She slept on the side, both of her hands under her head reminding her of a child. They were close, only a slight gap separating them, and she could witness all the minor details of Zulema’s face. There were no smirks, calculated looks, only a vulnerable woman. She looked younger like this, no presence of bitterness on her face. Macarena knew she should get up and check the area, but found herself addicted to this new version of her partner.

Although she noticed the woman changed. She remembered what Zulema looked like in prison, always scheming, manipulating, betraying. The inmates called her the scorpion - sure Saray followed her - but Zulema Zahir was a lonely animal in jail with only one goal: escape. To be with her now without that obsession turned out interesting. For example, never in a billion-year jail-Zulema would have allowed her to share a bed. One of the first things you learn in jail is to never think you’re safe, especially with your cell partners.

Freedom was a beautiful thing. Or again, maybe just a lie.

Zulema still didn’t trust her (neither did she, Macarena is not a fool) that’s clear. The woman was probably incapable of it, but that she felt asleep near her means a lot. People would think she overanalyzed the situation, but no one understands Zulema better than her. That’s what you do when you’re bored 95% of the time, you notice things.

For a long time, she thought the brunette was an enigma. And that’s the thing: Zulema wants people to not understand her because it makes her unpredictable. She pretends to be a sociopath, but Maca can now cut the crap and see right through her. She’s human and lives a normal life. She likes to cook, sings in the shower, prefers milk chocolate, and apparently drools when she sleeps.

With a chuckle, Macarena got up and noticed Zulema rolling on her previous side of the bed. Hairs were covering half of her face and resisted the sudden impulsion she had to push them aside. She sighed and turned away to look through the window; it was still dark, her watch showed 5:06. Before jail, she was a heavy sleeper, enjoyed sleep in but now she would be incapable of doing it even if she wanted to. Insomnia followed her release.

A quick check on the cupboard made her realize there was only one coffee capsule left and leaves it alone. They will have to go shopping today. They gained 10.000 euros with their last robbery so money won’t be a problem for now. They had to be careful, though. Guns, false papers, information were expensive and as Zulema says, you’re never rich enough . She used to believe the woman likes to be dramatic but learned the sad truth. A criminal life was pricey.

“Maca?” she heard, and it stops her train of thought. She turned toward the bed and saw Zulema scrunching her eyes with a yawn.

“What?” Because of the hour guards, they never spent time together in the morning and it’s with an amused smile on her lips she looked at the other woman waking up. Hairs disheveled, puffy eyes and an annoyed expression; of course the woman wouldn’t be a morning person.

“Tell me you didn’t fall asleep last night.” Zulema said as she stood up and almost ran towards the window, concern replacing annoyance.

Macarena didn’t answer, her eyes distracted by another thing. The woman wasn’t wearing any pants, only a sweater. Did she take them off before going to bed? Or during the night? If so, her question became useless as she knew the answer. And it would mean she woke up during the night, realized they fell in sleep together and decided to just ignore it, which was hard to believe.

Zulema was still looking at the window, and she took advantage of these few seconds to devour her. She could feel a familiar sentiment appearing: craving. It sometimes happened when she spent time with her partner and preferred to ignore it most of the time. But it made sense, right? Zulema is attractive. There are cute people, gorgeous people, sexy people, but she never met someone like Zulema. She was not just good-looking but a fucking black hole. She trapped people in her gravity shield and no escape was possible.

Was she trapped ?

Finger snaps diverted her from her thoughts.

“I just woke up." she replied as she turned her eyes and her back away from the woman.

“One rule, Macarena..." softly whispered Zulema. She could hear her slowly approaching, reminding her of a lion hunting his prey. “Only one rule and you can’t respect it”

“ There are no cops outside Zulema." she sharply replied as her jaw tightened, already tired of the inevitable fight.

The sound of hands smashing the counter made her jump, a second after her neck was grab by these hands.

“Listen to me carefully. The next time you fall asleep while you’re supposed to keep watch, I’ll kill you.” her mouth curved into that smile, the one supposed to scare people.

Macarena knew Zulema for too long to fall into this trap. All of this? A big ugly lie. She simpered and raised her chin, a challenge in her eyes.

“No, you won’t.”

The trailer fell into silence. They stared at each other during a moment and something sparkled into Zulema's eyes. She didn’t have time to recognize it as the woman released her. She gave her a once-over, then looked away.

“Don’t test me, Maca." She said finally, an evident threat in her words.

She left the trailer with a slammed door and Macarena pounded her fist on the table, frustrated. She took the last coffee capsule because why the fuck not and ignored the disappointment that she could sense growing inside her.


	2. Understanding

**Two**

  
They had robbed jewelry, but this time; it was a total disaster. The plan was simple, both had to enter the store and stole everything in three minutes before the police showed up. They knew how to do this. These robberies became a dance they perfected throughout the year. Maybe they grew cocky, too arrogant to remember a flawless plan didn’t exist.

Everything went well until the cashier took out an 11 cm long pocket knife and stabbed Zulema. She had her back turned, distracted by something at the back of the room. Macarena dropped the bag of money in the store and lifted her partner out of here as the man purchased them.

She finally succeeded to outrun him and found their car parked several meters from the robbery. Adrenaline flowed in her veins, but when they stopped to get in the car, she realized how bad Zulema’s wound looked. Blood spilled from her left shoulder, the cut seemed deep and would need stitches. They would worry about that later, though.

“Zule, listen to me,” she quickly said, eying her partner with concern, she looked paler than usual. “Stay still, I’ve found the car.”

Zulema squeezed her eyes shut but nodded, and it was her clue to drive them out of here. She delicately put her on the back seat, not before checking one last time on her wound.

“What are you waiting for? Drive!” shouted Zulema, shutting her eyes out as the action seemed to cause her pain.

“I’ll get you out of here” she promised and ran toward the driver’s seat.

She turned the key with haste and started the car. Her heart was beating wildly, her ears were burning, and she felt dizzy but tried to concentrate on her driving. However, she failed, and she kept jerking her head in the direction of the interior mirror to look at Zulema.

“Relax Rubia, you will kill us both,” Zulema said from the back. Her hands tightened into the steering wheel as she heard a snort. “This scratch won’t kill me, but a car accident might do it.”

Taking a big breath, she nodded and decreased the pressure on the accelerator brake.

“That’s it, relax.”

Her mouth twisted into a smile at this. How ironic was it that Zulema was the one in control? In her position, she would totally freak out, but maybe because she wasn’t sure Zulema wouldn’t leave her on a deserted road.

“Did you take the money?”

“No” she sighed bitterly, this should have made them win over 30.000 euros. A simple second of inattention fucked up two months of plans. They will have to quickly organize a new break-in as money started to seriously go missing.

A slam of hands on the window resounded directly followed by a whimper. 

“I said stay still” she snapped

The rest of the drive passed in silence and it’s with a big relief that Macarena spotted their van. She parked the car and hurriedly opened the back door. Zulema was sitting, her face twisted in pain, but she noticed with notice that the blood had stopped to flow.

“Ok, hold on to me.”

She softly seized her partner's waist to help her, but angry hands pushed her back. 

“I’m fine.”

Macarena shrugged, and with raised eyebrows stepped away

“Alright. Get up.”

Zulema glared at her, pride won over her and she tried to get up, but her face automatically went white. With great difficulty, she succeeded to get out of the car but seemed to understand she wouldn’t be able to walk toward the trailer without help. She gave Macarena a dirty look as she reached out for her arm.

Macarena seized hers without hesitation and softly guided them to the van. 

“Cut the crap Zulema, be honest. How’s the pain?”

“Compared to a heart attack? Fine.”

“Great. Now an actual answer?”

The woman tensed in her arms, and it’s with an edgy voice she answered.

“I’m fine, it hurts, but I’ve had worse. You had no reason to leave this stupid bag.”

She aggressively opened the trailer’s door and put her down without regard on the couch. Anger stirred within her, she always did something wrong according to Zulema and she grew tired of hearing always the same reproaches. Especially when this time she didn’t fuck up.

“What were you looking, Zulema? You were supposed to watch out for the cashier,” she said as she was looking for their first aid kit.

“I heard something.”

“Yeah? What? A rat? Don’t put this on me, you screwed up.”

“You had the bag. I don’t see it, do you?”

“It would be here if you had done your job!”

She found the kit and took some sterile compresses and bandages. Now it would be a fun time.

“Take off your shirt.”

Zulema smirked, and her eyes sparkled with malice.

“So bossy. Are you like this with your lovers?” 

“Fuck off.”

Her partner gave a mocking laugh but took off her shirt, not without an expression of pain on her face. Macarena approached the wound and sighed in relief, it wasn’t that bad as she originally thought. No stitches would be needed, but Zulema wouldn’t be able to move her arms for some days. She seized the sterile compress and placed it on her shoulder.

“What do you think, doc? I’ll live?” “Yeah, but you must take some days off.”

“Oh shit, I don’t know if my boss will be happy to hear that.” Zulema said with a fake concerned voice.

She rolled her eyes but chuckled at this and continued to treat her wound. Younger, she had to take first-aid courses, so she knew what she was doing. Zulema also had some medical knowledge, they had to, going to the hospital meant to return to jail. They had been lucky so far, no serious injuries, but Macarena wondered sometimes if Zulema would risk her freedom for her if one day she got hurt. Probably not. Would she? Probably yes.

“Alright, you’re good. I’ll patch you up but we’ll have to buy more bandages tomorrow,” she said as she unfolded the pad “And some painkillers too.”

“I don’t need them.”

“And a box of paracetamol for me.” She sighed.

When no answers came, she posed the bandage with caution and only barely audible whimpers cut broke the silence in the room. Zulema could say what she wanted, Macarena knew she was in pain, her body betrayed her. Every time her hand would touch the wound, she gritted her teeth and grimaced.

“I wanted to be a doctor when I was a child” the words came out of her mouth without intention. 

They weren’t the type to share childhood memories.

“Like every boring child.”

“What did you want to be? A scary gangster?”

“I just wanted to be free.”

She waited for an explanation but none came and she shrugged, Zulema past life had always been difficult to understand and she never tried to dig it, everyone had secrets. In one last movement, she finished her treatment. The bandage seemed to cover everything.

“It’s ok? Not too tight?” 

“It’s fine.”

She rolled her eyes. How many times had she said the word fine ? If the woman wanted to act like this, it was her problem. She had done her job.

She stood up and approached the window, gazed out the horizon. “You think he called the cop?” She asked.

“I didn’t hear any police sirens in the car. He attacked me with a knife, it would be stupid to call them.”

She hummed with approval and turned away to look at the woman again. Her face had found some colors, but she still looked paler than usual and black circles were painted under her eyes. She had put back her shirt covered in blood.

The scene reminded her of their time in jail. She had seen more scars from Zulema than smiles. How fucked up was it?

“Go to sleep.” She said as she walked toward the bathroom to wash up her hands covered in blood. She felt drained, the day had been a disaster.

When she returned to the main room, she expected Zulema to still be on the couch but realized with surprise that the woman had gone to the bed. For some reason, that made her happy. She walked to the door to let her sleep in peace, but a voice called her.

“Maca, wait.”

She turned in the woman's direction and raised an eyebrow. Zulema looked at her for seconds as she seemed to struggle with her words.

“Thank you.” She finally said

Macarena leaned against the wall, a smile plastered on her face.

“I’m sorry, what? I didn’t hear you.

“I won’t repeat it.” Zulema answered and continued in a cold tone. “But you have to know, I wouldn’t have done the same for you. I would have left you in that store and took the bag.”

She pressed her lips together and walked toward the bed. Her eyes bored into hers as she sat on it.

“You know, I never took you for a greedy person. I thought freedom meant more than money for you. When did you become such a cliché, Zulema?”

“I killed your unborn child for money. Did you forget?” without letting her time to respond, she continued “You can leave and try to live on bread and water if you like, but you’ll be on your knees, begging me to rob the closest bank after two days.”

She chuckled, Macarena never lied about liking money but Zulema was lying to herself. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned closer, a challenge present in her eyes.

“You’ll miss me first. Without me, you would be miserable.”

Zulema head tilted, and to her surprise smiled. It wasn’t a smirk or a cold smile but a little turn-up of her lips as her eyes bored into her. For a moment, time frowned, something conveyed between them, a mutual understanding. 

Macarena didn’t dare to look away, afraid of breaking this bond because for one of the first time of her time she really looked at Zulema. And what she saw was beautiful. Perhaps they liked too much to put people in cases - good people, bad people, heroes, monsters - and forgot they were all humans. Zulema was human. Macarena was human. And right now, they were two humans disguised as monsters who needed to look out for each other.

That’s why she laid down on the bed and placed them under the cover while being careful to not touch Zulema’s bandage.

“We’re still not friends, Maca.”

“Of course not.” she answered with a smile as she turned off the bedside lamp.


	3. Temptation

**Three**

“What’s that?”

“A gift.”

Macarena lifted an eyebrow. This day had been... weird.

She woke up at 10 am alone in the van, Zulema left a note saying she was out and wouldn’t be back before the evening. This was not uncommon, so she didn’t question it. They sometimes needed space from each other. 

During the day, she cleaned up the van, read some stupid magazines, and waited for her partner’s return. She wouldn’t confess it even under torture, but she missed Zulema. She agreed to the woman's proposition of partnership because she didn’t want to deal with loneliness anymore. She wanted to find a reason to live, and sometimes she wondered if the robberies were the only reasons she stayed here.

She liked Zulema. Again, even under torture, she wouldn’t admit it, but here’s the truth: she enjoyed her company. And she’s quite sure the sentiment is reciprocal. At some point, they developed a weird friendship. Not a common one, they won’t ever go out together or braid each other hairs... it was maybe a more special relationship, a one where they didn’t need to do all these things to actually trust each other.

Because yeah, at this point Macarena trusted Zulema. She knew all could change tomorrow, but here? Now? She trusted Zulema because they were the same. Her partner had nowhere to go, just like her.

In conclusion, the day passed slowly, and at a point, she had nothing else to do than count the seconds. Finally, at 7 pm, Zulema came back. Macarena was outside, leaning on her deckchair, and she didn’t expect what she saw when Zulema got out of the car.

She wore clothes Maca never saw on her, a black tunic tucked into skinny jeans and long boots. It was more formal than what she wore usually, maybe something a person would wear for a party... if it wasn’t for the light strings rolled up around her neck. She turned up in her direction and Maca realized she had a tummy gun in one hand and a present on the other. She looked like a lunatic. Zulema smiled at her. She looked adorable.

Zulema slowly walked toward her, a weird smile plastered on her face and stretched the present wrapped in a yellow paper.

“A gift” Macarena repeated, puzzled.

“Yep,” Answered Zulema, insisting on the « p ». She cocked her head and lifted an eyebrow. “We can stand here for the rest of the evening or you can... maybe open it?”

Macarena took the present and examined it, suspicious. “What do you think? That it’s a fucking bomb? Just open it.”

She sighed and unwrapped the present. Her brows snapped together when she realized what was inside.

“Cheap sangria? That’s your gift?”

Zulema grinned, amused by the situation. She gestured the tommy gun still in her hand.

“Yes... and this. I found a brilliant job. 200.000 euros just for both of us,” She pointed to the sangria bottle, “I think we deserve a party.”

“Aren’t we supposed to celebrate once the job is done?”

“That would suppose there’s a chance we’ll fail.”

She took Macarena's cheeks between her hands and kissed her forehead.

“And we won’t. Come on, go fetch us some ice cubes, I’ll explain everything.”

She released her cheeks and sat up on her own deckchair. Macarena stayed in her place for two seconds, confused by what just happened. She hadn’t seen her happy like this since... ever? With a shrug, she moved inside of the van and found some ice cubes in the refrigerator. This was weird, but she wouldn’t complain about Zulema being in a pleasant mood.

“Alright, here you go.” She said once she came out of the van and placed some ice cubes in the two glasses of sangria Zulema had filled. She sat on her chair, face to face with her partner. “Now tell me more about your big plan we won’t fail.”

Zulema took a sip of her glass. The sunset illuminated her figure and Macarena admired the relaxed face the woman wore as well as the smile who never left her since she came back. She looked beautiful. Warmth crept into her cheeks, normally she would look away but she didn’t. She stared with fascination at the beauty of Zulema Zahir.

“I know someone who works in a casino, he owns me his life. He called me a week ago, told me it was time for him to pay his debts. He and his colleagues hate the owner of this casino and assured me they’ll help us get in under some conditions. Nothing I couldn’t offer them.” She specified, seeing her worry face. “It’s simple, really. The security guard will let us in with our guns, once inside we go to the coffer, take the money and a friend of mine will drive us elsewhere.”

“A friend of yours? Since when do you have any friends?”

“Since this morning.”

“You're going to trust someone you met this morning?”

“This isn’t a question of trust Rubia but a guarantee. I know he’ll do what I say because he doesn’t have any choice.”

“Sounds like a great friendship.”

“Not worse than ours,” Zulema replied.

Macarena sighed but didn’t comment. This plan sounded shit, but tried to enjoy for now the calm and dropped the conversation. She took a sip of her sangria and grimaced; they weren’t low on money, Zulema could have bought something better. Then again, the woman always wanted more money, but she soon discovered her partner was a stingy person. This van was her idea, she said it would be more convenient but Macarena wondered if she just didn’t want to spend too much money on a house. Or maybe she only didn’t think they would last this long together.

“It’s been one year and four-month we've been together.” She said.

“What, you count the days?”

“As if you don’t. Admit it, you didn’t think we would stay together this long.”

“Yes I did. I wouldn’t have offered you to join me if it was only for a month.”

She rubbed her hands on her thigh, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Whatever you say, Nostradamus,” she mumbled.

Zulema took in the sight of her and rolled her eyes.

“Something is bothering you,” She noted in a boring voice. “Tell me.”

Macarena looked at her hands for a moment. Something was bothering her. She leaned back in her chair and spoke in a tone harsher than what she intended.

“I don’t like you making plans of your own and talking to other people. What if this guy betrays you? We’re in this together, if you fall, I fall.”

Zulema laughed, sat up, and leaned closer to her face. She held out her arm and played with Macarena’s hair.

“You want to put me on a leash? I’m not supposed to talk to other people if I don’t have your approval? Be careful Rubia, you sound like an abusive husband and we don’t want to ruin our magnificent partnership now, do we?” It was said in a whisper, a mocking tone clear.

Macarena jerked her arm away, anger thrummed through her veins, their little party already forgot. She stood up and tried to ignore the laughing she could still hear as she got in the van.

“Fucking whore” She shrieked, a wave of fury crashed through her, she ran her hand through her hair as she tried to calm herself. A little voice in her head told her that maybe she was overreacting, but she was getting tired of this mind control Zulema had on her.

She heard the door opening behind her and clenched her fists. 

“I guess the party's over?”

“Get out.” She said as her jaw tightened.

“Look at me, Maca.”

The moment she turned to look at her, she was suddenly pushed against the wall.

“What the fuck are you...”

“Listen to me carefully, Rubia. I don’t gamble my freedom, I know this job won’t fail. You don’t like it? You can go away, I don’t give a shit.”

“Is that why you talk to other people? You’re trying to convince yourself you don’t need me?” She replied with a sneer.

Zulema gave her a once over, an unfriendly smile plastered on her face.

“As I said, I don’t trust anyone, I don’t like anyone. I only care about guarantees, and you? I know you Maca, I know why you’re still here and I know what you want.”

“And what do I want?” Asked Macarena, a challenge in her eyes.

At that, Zulema’s mouth crashed down against hers. Macarena froze for a second, what the fuck was happening?

“Stop thinking, Maca” Zulema said as her lips brushed against hers.

And that’s what she did. Maca’s fingers drifted down to the side of Zulema’s neck and dived her in. It wasn’t romantic but primal, they both lost all self-control when tongues joined in. They were conducted by hunger, anger, and desperation, they kissed like it could end at any moment and desired to memorize everything. Macarena wanted to remember everything, the feel on her partner’s tongue, her heavy breathing, even her fucking scent.

Macarena’s hands shifted as they deepened the kiss. Everything was blurred. She stopped thinking clearly the second they started this. She could feel Zulema’s hands everywhere, on her thighs, arms, hairs, face as if the other woman couldn’t decide where she wanted to touch her. It was too much and not enough.

Suddenly, Zulema lifted her from the wall and dropped her unceremoniously on the mattress. Macarena opened her mouth to protest but was shut down by the feel of lips on her neck. She leaned on the side to let Zulema have better access to her neck, eyes closed as she let all her doubt being crushed down by those kisses. A groan escaped her throat when sloppy wet kisses became soft bites. Those would scar tomorrow, but she didn’t find the heart to care. She ran her hands through Zulema’s hair before shoving them, forcing her to look her in the face. Dark and intense eyes, drowned by a desire born fifteen years ago in jail, stared at her. To be the center of attention of Zulema Zahir was an addictive feeling, she knew at this instant that tonight wouldn’t be enough.

She grabbed her partner’s arms and pushed her toward her body. She understood what she wanted and sat on her legs and then pressed a hand to her throat.

“Got you.” she whispered huskily in her ears, sending shivers all over her body.

Because the hunt was over. This little cat-and-mouse game they had during these last years was over and Macarena wondered if someone won or if they both lost.

“Yeah... and now what?” She asked.

Zulema answered her with open mouth kisses under her jaw, slowly descending to her low neckline. Her hands who were resting on each side of her knees moved up to unbutton her shirt. Macarena slightly stood up to give her better access to her shirt and tentatively put her own hands- on Zulema’s ass and squeezed. She smirked at the moan who erupted from her partner’s mouth. She wouldn’t let her have total control over this. Adrenaline, lust, desire... all these things spiked in her body as she asked herself what Zulema looked during an orgasm. Following this obsessing want to know, she rolled her thigh against her. They both groaned at the sensation. It was marvelous. This little friction felt better than any sex she had in her past.

Zulema's hands became shaky, it was with difficulty she unbuttoned the rest of her shirt. Finally, when all the buttons were off, Macarena removed the piece of clothing. She stood in her jeans and bra, shivers rolled all over her body, not because of cold but because the way Zulema drank her up. She slowly gave her a once-over, like she was mesmerizing the picture. Macarena realized after a moment she was trembling.

“You’re ok?” She asked, putting her hand around her face.

“Fine.” 

She closed the gap between them and kissed her, it was at first tender, unlike everything she shared. For a moment, Macarena forgot the passion and just kissed her back. She drowned in this unusual share of tenderness. A bite on her upper lips, however, turned the kiss into a hungry one and this time, she didn’t have any patience to continue their foreplay. She roughly took the tunic’s woman and removed it, almost teared it up. Zulema grabbed both of her wrists and held them on the cushion.

“Be careful.” She snapped before turning her head in front of her breasts. 

Macarena moaned when teeth caught her bra, teasing her nipples under the piece of cloth. The hands-on her wrist moved to unclipped her bra.

Macarena lost all clear thoughts when Zulema sucked her nipples. Her touch sent warmth into her veins, burning her. It was marvelous but almost painful; she felt like she would explode any minute now if the woman didn’t touch her where she really wanted. She roughly grabbed Zulema’s hair and pushed her down. A laugh escaped her throat.

“Needy?” She asked, her lips brushing her stomach. 

“Don’t tease me.” She ordered with a glare.

Another laugh but the woman applied and went down, to be face to face with her trouser fly. She slowly unzipped it. She groaned when a finger brushed her panties. She felt overwhelmed by all this; it wasn’t just lust and want; she needed her.

Finally, Zulema unbuttoned her button and removed her jean from her leg. She was standing in front of her and felt insecure; it was stupid, but Macarena knew she wasn’t young anymore. Zulema, as sensing her discomfort, kissed her inner thigh with tenderness.

“Zulema...” She moaned and already forgetting her shyness she removed her pantie herself. Zulema looked at her with amusement.

“Have patience”

“I don’t have any!” She cried out and opened her leg.

Zulema repositioned herself to sit on her legs and pulled her back for another kiss. It was messy, wet, all teeth... the conclusion of something they started years ago.

She nearly cried when a finger touched her clit. 

Zulema traced small circles on her as she continued to kiss her. Macarena stopped it and looked at her. Her eyes were darker than she had ever seen, they reflected desperation she felt too.

“Inside. I need you inside.” She whispered.

And for the first of her life, Zulema did what she told her. She closed her eyes as finally, she could feel her finger slides into her. At first, it was slow but when Zulema understood she didn’t need any preparation, she added a second finger and pounded into her, hard and fast. She lost all connection with reality, only one thing mattered: the feeling of thrust inside her. She felt complete like she found something she was looking for years. Maybe she did.

When a third finger was added, she rewarded every thrust with a moan, her thigh tried to keep the rhythm imposed by Zulema and she could hear her breath becoming shallow and shaky, she was as lost as her.

She could feel the tension building in her stomach and when Zulema touched her clit with her other hand she was sent over the edge. Her body froze as waves of pleasure flowed through her body. Her entered body shakes and knew she was moaning something incoherent.

She panted and lied down on the mattress for a moment, eyes closed as her orgasm disappeared. Losing the woman feel on her knees makes her open them.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Take a shower.”

“What?” She sat up and took her arm.

“You don’t want me to reciprocate?” 

“No. Go to sleep.”

It was an order and Macarena just watched her leave, quiet.

She heard the water flow and waited for Zulema’s return, but she never came back from her shower. She fell asleep alone in bed.


	4. Confrontation

**Four**

Macarena breathed in and out, filling grey smoke into the air. She found pot in a drawer; the thing was stiff and black; she didn’t remember how they had this in the first place, but she rolled a joint without hesitation. The last time she smoked one goes back several years ago, she never liked the blurry sensation cannabis brought her, but now, she embraced it.

They had been doing well this last year, nothing perfect, but they found a common ground to cohabit together. Things changed three days ago when Zulema fucked her. She should have known, but at the time, Macarena only listened to the need of her body. She wouldn’t have minded to let it be as it was, a simple one-night stand but Zulema complicated things. Her partner would be out all day, come home in the evening, check her in the bed, then be out again. They never talked about what happened... they didn’t talk at all, to be honest. Not even the stupid break-in Zulema planned.

She sighed and raised her hands, played with the smoke. Maybe their time was over. Zulema crossed a line that night and Macarena couldn’t deal with the dirty feeling she left on her skin. They argued, they threatened each other, but never they crossed that line because they were smart enough to know what a disaster it could be. Well, that’s what Macarena believed, but Zulema changed the rules of the game that night and seemed to purposefully ignore it as her silence testified.

The worst part? Macarena couldn’t regret what happened because it was fucking wonderful sex. She closed her eyes as her blurry mind replayed the whole night, the kisses, the touches, the sounds... and the way Zulema fucking left her when she finished her business.

Who did that? Who the fuck did that? She woke up alone in the van, Zulema came back home at midnight and the same happened for the next two days. What was she even doing during her day? Find new friends? Lovers? She huffed, she joined Zulema because she searched for a better life, and she became a pathetic jealous woman.

She glared at the joint, wasn’t this thing supposed to calm her? She threw it away, leaving it on the floor.

A sudden idea came up in her mind, it was petty and maybe pathetic but she smoked a joint so she had an excuse, right? She seized her phone on the counter and dialed one of the 6 contacts she had.

Zulema answered immediately. “What?”

“We have a problem. Come home, now.”

She hanged up directly, not letting time for Zulema to respond. She sat up in front of the clock and counted the minutes, a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

* * *

Exactly twenty-four minutes later, Zulema opened the door with haste, a concerned expression on her face. Macarena studied her, she looked good these days, always dressed up and made up, she wondered sometimes if she had a lover in town. It wouldn’t be her business, but still, she wondered. Macarena didn’t talk to anyone outside, no friends, no swain, the center of life was Zulema and it probably was the problem of everything.

“What happened?” Asked Zulema

She stayed quiet, maybe she looked like a lunatic, sat up on her chair facing the wall, an unreadable face on her. She wanted to tell Zulema everything she had on her mind, but the pot slowed her brain. Only one thought reverberated, “ fuck her” . Not really sleek, she always admired how Zulema was quick-witted, quoting cult works to prove her point. Maca didn’t possess this ability, in her youngness she wasn’t inclined to mince her words. It changed in prison, you always had to think before opening your mouth unless you craved a knife in your belly.

She thought about what she would say to Zulema once she came back, had a brief speech for her but as she rises to face the woman, she forgot it. Her mouth opened to say words she hadn’t thought for years.

“You stole my life.”

Zulema slammed her hands on the counter and took a deep breath. “You called me to tell me this?”

Maca smiled, a cold one. She took her time to respond as she relished the obvious anger forming into Zulema's body. A vicious part of her always took pleasure with pushing through the ice mind of the woman. Even as a rookie in jail, she enjoyed it, Zulema Zahir, the so-called elf of the fucking hell beaten by words.

“No. I called because I’m bored and high. I thought my brilliant friend would entertain me.” She answered in a voice that sounded off even to her ears.

Zulema gazed at the joint on the floor, then turned her eyes to give her a once-over. She pressed her lips together as she seemed to think about what to say. Maca could laugh, or threw her fists in the air, she finally did it, Zulema didn’t know what to respond to her.

“Then come on, entertain me. Tell me about your day, darling.” She added as she got closer to her, letting only inches between their bodies.

“What do you want, Maca? A quickie? That’s why you called?”

She slapped her. An evil side of her took pleasure when blood appeared on Zulema’s upper lips. Another one side of her wished things were different, but she ignored it.

“Fuck you Zulema.”

Zulema stayed still, studied her face, then chuckled. Anger curled hot and unstoppable in her gut, like a blazing inferno that wanted to burn him from the inside out. She wanted only one thing: snatch away the smirk on Zulema’s face. She pushed her hard on the wall, so hard that Zulema stumbled, almost falling on the floor.

“You stole my fucking life.” She shouted.

“I stole nothing, you were glad to throw away your boring life.”

Zulema tried to grasp her throat, but Maca saw it coming and caught her hands in a grip. She pulled her from the wall as Zulema tried to kick her with her legs. They both lost balance and fell down on the bed, Macarena on top of Zulema.

“You sure you didn’t call me to get fucked?” Said Zulema, venom in her eyes.

Macarena studied her face, anger slowly replaced by something else, a smirk appeared of her face. She puts both of her hands around Zulema’s body, trapping her.

“That’s what you wish, isn’t it?” She asked, “Why are you not fighting back?” No answers.

“You want to know why, Zulema? Because you’re scared of me.”

Zulema snorted, but Macarena didn’t let her time to respond.

“You hate to not be in control, right?” She smiled and leaned to whisper in her ear. “But with me, it would be easy to lose control. You want it. That’s why you saved my life those years ago, or why you asked me to join you. You crave to feel anything since your daughter died, and I make you feel something, right?”

She turned her face away to look at her in the eyes. Their noses brushed each other. She could hear the heavy breathing of Zulema, still trapped in her grip. A crushing silence landed as they stared at each other for a few seconds. Zulema for once was an open book, Macarena saw everything she needed in her dark eyes. Doubt, anger, fear, and desire. All these emotions characterized them well, they lived with them during this past year, but Maca was getting sick of it. This shit was getting old.

A cruel laugh broke the silence.

“You really believe that? I fucked you one night and now you think... what? That I have feelings for you?”

Maca joined her giggling, an icy smile plastered on her face.

“Feelings for me? Like love? No, I don’t think you’re capable of that,” She stopped for a moment and leaned forward, so close her lips brushed Zulema’s as she whispered, “But desire? Yes. You want me. You pretend the other night was a game because it’s easier to lie than admit it. I don’t why though. Is your world collapsing because you want me?”

Both of her hands grasped Zulema’s breast, resulting in a harsh breath from the woman.

“Would it be the end of the world if you let yourself for one night lose control?” She punctuated her sentence with one hand going under her shirt, caressing the skin on her stomach. Zulema closed her eyes, which made her smile, a feeling of victory slowly gaining her veins.

“Rules...” whispered her partner

She smirked and hummed as she slowly raised her shirt to leave wet kisses on her belly. 

“Of course. What are yours?” She asked in a distracted voice.

“No feelings, this is only for pleasure. No stupid cuddles, promises of fucking love, or whatever. In fact, no talking, I don’t want to hear anything from you. During the day, we never speak about this.”

“Seems fair.” She answered as she licked the skin below her breast. She stared at the bra with an evil glance, this thing had to go. She pushed Zulema’s arms to help her remove the shirt. Once done, she tried to unclasp her bra but hands grasped her throat.

“And just to be clear: you have control only for tonight.”

“We’ll see.”

With a grin, she expertly unclasped her bra and without letting her any time to respond, she took her nipples in her mouth. A moan escaped Zulema’s throat and Macarena could cry because that was that she wanted for years. To hear abandonment from her mouth. Suddenly, hands gripped her ass and drew her closer to her partner’s body.

“Your rules?” Asked Zulema as she moved one hand from her ass to bury it in her hair.

“Only one,” She felt pressure on her hair and understood what the woman wanted. She lowered her face, facing the fly of Zulema’s pants. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” 

she unbuttoned her pants but didn’t make any move to remove it. In a sudden move, Macarena took Zulema’s face between her hands and kissed her. Marked her. Took everything because tonight, Zulema was letting her give all she had. Those moans? They were hers . Those shaggy breaths? Hers . These marked bites on her neck? Hers. Hers. Hers. Endorphin and dopamine blurred her mind, controlled her movement, she never felt this high before and was sure the joint she smoked before had nothing to do with it.

The reason was under hers, panting and needing. How hadn’t she realized this before? An addiction, that was their relationship. Zulema opened the fucking Pandora’s box by leading their relationship to sex. They needed each other for their search for happiness in life before, but now things got personal. Whatever Zulema wanted for rules, sex always makes things more difficult.

But also more pleasurable. She laid her hands on her partner’s leg and began to remove her pant. Skin appeared inch by inch as the piece of cloth vanished, her lower lips quivered at the vision, and without waiting a second she placed a kiss on her upper thigh. Only a black panty remained on Zulema’s body, Macarena could continue this teasing, she savored every gasp of her partner, but hands came back on her hands and painfully pulled her hairs. She hissed, tried to twist away from Zulema’s hands, but the grip was too strong. She raised her head to look at her in the eyes, dark, drowned in lust and need.

“Let go.” She said.

“No.”

She raised her eyebrows, and suddenly; she dug nails into her thigh, leaving red scratches. A smile of victory plastered on her face when hands released her and without wasting a second, she slipped the underwear away.

Her throat tightened at the vision of Zulema naked on their bed, the woman who swore she’ll kill her one day rested now completely into her hands. She slides her hands tentatively on her clit, testing her sensitivity. The way Zulema’s hips jerked against her finger and the wetness she could feel told her enough. She wanted more thought, tonight she swore she would take everything, and she intended to keep that promise. She moved her hand away, ignoring the plaintive sound Zulema made and kneeled up while keeping her eyes on Zulema. For years she wondered how the woman looked when she came, and she wouldn’t miss it. She lowered her head, gripped her thigh and sweeps her tongue out.

From there, tongues and fingers took over. They’re both mess, moans and sob of pleasure gave evidence of it, and still together they created a fucking masterpiece. Macarena lost track of time, maybe minutes passed or maybe years, she didn’t care because all she could think was more, more, more. Zulema never complained. She asked her to abandon control for a night and that’s exactly what happened. The scorpion, elf of the fucking hell, the nightmare of Spanish cops came loud with Macarena's name on her lips.

Three times.

After her last orgasm, Macarena kissed her to show evidence of her pleasure, but Zulema took advantage of it to roll them over. Macarena forgot a long time ago that she was supposed to have control and let her do whatever she liked with her body.

The night dragged out like this; they discovered every part of each other's body.

Finally, exhaustion caught them, and body completely drained, they laid down on the bed. No words were spoken, they stared at the ceiling, both trying to understand how doing the wrong thing felt so right. Macarena remembered what she said earlier “ would the world collapse?” and maybe it did because all her beliefs crashed down tonight. She thought it would only be angry sex, revenge for the way Zulema treated her the other night, but it didn’t feel like this. It felt like forgiveness.

“Shouldn’t you go take a shower now?” She asked in a lazy voice. 

“I said no talking Rubia.”

She shrugged, rubbed her eyes, and rolled over to sleep. She expected Zulema to go and do whatever she was doing every night, but surprise caught her when she heard Zulema turn off the light. It should feel off, they weren’t that kind of lovers to fall asleep together after sex but surprisingly it wasn’t. She falls asleep with the sounds of soft breath coming from Zulema this time.


	5. Acceptation

**_“Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.”_ **

**Stephen King**

* * *

  
  


**FIVE**

  
  


Two years passed. A cliché thing to say, but it was terrifying how time flies by. Days passed and looked the same. She thought a robber’s life would be eventful, always on the run, like in a movie, but the reality always differed from fiction. Or maybe she and Zulema created this beautiful way of living, after all, they weren’t typical thieves. Surely Al Capone didn’t live in a van in the middle of nowhere.

She called this place “the van” for a long time, but now she thought it simply as home. She read once that home was the starting place of love, hope, and dreams. Is that what happened here, in the desert of Andalusia? She discovered what freedom meant according to Zulema. It meant living without fear. They owned nothing, depended on nothing, and needed nothing. She understood after a long time that Zulema didn’t care about those robberies, she saw money only as a luxury. She robbed jewelry, banks, casinos because she could. That was freedom, according to Zulema.

Two years passed, and it was all it took for Macarena to fall for this idea of freedom. Sometimes, she craved a normal life, with a family, friends, husband, children, dogs,... but two years passed and once you tasted that kind of freedom you couldn’t walk away from it. In a certain way she was once again trapped in jail, but this time the prison was this bubble she and Zulema lived in.

She didn’t remember how her life was supposed to look like without Zulema Zahir. Maybe that was the plan of the woman since the beginning, to infect her until she couldn’t walk away. For a person who claimed to be a lonely person, Zulema always in her life relied on someone. She remembered once making fun of Saray by saying she had stolen her friendship with Zulema. Look at them now, Saray moved on with her life, raised her daughter, and forgot her prison time as Macarena lived a fugitive life with Zulema. The roles should be reversed, Macarena should be with a child and Saray with Zulema.

There’s no way she would replace their roles, though. And that was what she meant by being trapped.

She learned it yesterday, after a fight with the woman.

_ They were in their car, waiting for the contact of Zulema who was supposed to deliver them guns for their next work. In Sevilla’s downtown. Macarena grew tired of Zulema’s contacts, they all seemed to be stupid and why her partner was agreeing with those stupid terms was beyond her. _

_ “What would you do if I died?” She asked in a boring voice. _

_ Zulema inspected her fingernails as a snort escaped her. _

_ “Find a new naïve blonde willing to throw away her life.” _

_ “Funny. Would I even have a burial or you would just throw my body in a trash can?” Zulema sighed in annoyance and turned her head to look at her in an icy stare. _

_ “What do you want, Maca?” _

_ “We’re waiting for your stupid friend for what? We don’t need money anymore, I don’t see why we’re still risking our lives. We could spend the rest of our lives safe in a villa, why are we still doing this?” _

_ “Because I would die of boredom.” _

_ “Well, that’s an excellent reason, thanks.” _

_ A silence filled the car for several minutes. It was Zulema who broke it. _

_ “We’re immortal Rubia. Someday, little girls will dream to be us. When teachers will ask them what they want to be when they grow up, you know what they’ll say?” A lazy smile appeared on her face. “They’ll say that they want to become the bitches who stole from all these banks. That’s the legacy we’re leaving behind us.” _

_ “I’m not a little girl. I’m tired Zulema, and honestly even you must be out of ideas, we robbed half of the region. I just don’t see the point anymore.” _

_ Zulema chewed her lips, a cold look in her eyes. _

_ “Then go. I’m not stopping you. Go back to your boring life, why would I care.” _

_ “Maybe I’ll just do that.” She snapped, and without waiting for an answer, left the car. _

_ She spent the day walking in Sevilla, angry and confused by their previous discussion. She stopped in a bar and for a night, let herself be just a normal girl. _

_ “Hey, you’re alone?” She heard a voice behind her. _

_ She turned. A man was looking at her in a hopeful way. He was good looking, black hair, blue eyes, a confident smile. Normal. She returned his smile. _

_ “Yeah, I’m new in the city.” _

_ He sat down in the chair in front of her. That was presumptuous. She didn’t like that. But she was supposed to have a normal night, so she remained silent. _

_ “That sucks. What’s your name?” _

_ She answered, and they spent one-hour talking. It felt off, but she forced herself to appreciate their discussion. After some beers, he proposed to continue their night in his flat and she accepted. _

_ She woke up in the morning with a horrible feeling in her gut. Part of the reason was because of the alcohol she drank, but the principal one was because it didn’t feel right to be in this bed. The mattress didn’t feel right; the cushion didn’t feel right, the body asleep beside her didn’t feel right. _

_ She quickly dressed up and left his apartment without turning away. _

_ She sat down on the bench next to the bus stop. Macarena searched for her phone and looked if she had any new messages. Zero. Of course. She made a movement to lock it up when her eyes spotted today’s date. _

And that’s how she was now standing in front of the van. She had planned to come back earlier, but the bus had arrived with delay. It was night; she hadn’t see Zulema since their argument. She took a deep breath and entered their home.

She spotted Zulema on the bed, smoking a cigarette. Her eyes turned to look at her but said nothing. Maybe the logical thing to do would be for both of them to apologize. That wasn’t how their relationship worked, though. They will never talk about this argument ever again.

Macarena approached her, and with a tentative smile broke the silence.

“Happy birthday.”

Zulema rolled her eyes but wasn’t able to hide the brief smile plastered on her face. Macarena sat down on the bed next to her. Their bed. Crazy to think two years ago they discovered with horror that only one bed could fit in. 

Macarena smirked as she thought about what they had done multiple times now on this bed.

She reached into her pocket for her wallet and produced a small box wrapped grossly in a cheap gift wrap. She placed it on the sheet without words.

A heavy silence filled the piece as Zulema studied the present. The Tick-Tock sounds of the clock in the kitchen emphasized the tension in the room. What was inside the gift didn’t matter, the simple fact Maca offered her something meant another line crossed.

Zulema sighed but reached for the gift. And just like that, a much more comfortable ambiance replaced the previous tension. Warmer. Softer. Dangerous.

She watched Zulema unwrapping the box. She chuckled when she saw what was inside. A scorpion key chain Maca found in some tobacco shop. The cashier assured her it wasn’t a figurine but a real dead scorpion locked in the glass. She thought that was disgusting. She didn’t hesitate to pay seven euros for this.

“That must be the worst gift someone ever gave to me,” Zulema said as her fingers delicately brushed over the scorpion.

“You’re welcome.”

Macarena watched Zulema as she pulled her keys from her pocket and attached the scorpion on it. Their eyes met, and time stopped. The thing is, the gift didn’t matter, Macarena could have offered her a dirty rag, the result would have been the same. Zulema carried now on her bunch of keys something Macarena gave to her. That was something they always refused to do, no gifts, no attachments. But two years passed, and they broke all the rules, didn’t they?

There was a time, the only thing she saw on Zulema’s eyes was death. Her death, the death of her child, the death of her family.

Now, as she stared brown eyes, she could see a future. Hope. Home. Zulema felt like home. She wondered when that happened. Probably when they started to sleep together.

All their night were a russian roulette. At a time the bullets were only hate and sex, but things got complicated when someone added feelings in the gun. Macarena realized that too late, and she was pretty sure Zulema too felt the change into their relationship. She sometimes wondered who fall first, maybe they both did at the same time, that’d explain how they let this happened.

However, Macarena was a thief, and as a result, liked to gamble. A yawn escaped her mouth. Zulema turned away and reached for her jacket.

“Go to sleep, I’ll take the first watch.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her hands to stop her.

“Come on, you were falling asleep before I came in. Let’s both go to sleep, you know we don’t need to keep watches.”

Zulema gave her a once over, she could see the wheels rolling in her mind. Macarena caressed delicately her wrist as she waited for her to make a decision. She heard a sigh and smiled, that was the sign of Zulema giving up. Sometimes a vicious part of her took an evil pleasure to see Zulema weaker when she was with her. Almost scared by the bond they shared. However, she didn’t feel like gloating right now, she only desired to go to sleep. She dragged Zulema back on the mattress, inviting her to lean in. She encountered no resistance, they both were on their back, gazing at the ceiling.

“I still have a lot of plans. We might need to move on in a different region though.” Zulema said.

There was a question hidden behind those words, Macarena recognized it. Do you want to leave? The truth was, she didn’t know. Her heart told her to stay, her mind told her to leave. She needed something that Zulema couldn’t give her.

She rolled on her back to face Zulema. Her eyes were open, honest, soft. That was a side of her she rarely saw. Slowly, she lifted her finger to caress the tear made by mascara. Something broke in her partner the day Fatima died. She knew if it didn’t happen, Zulema would never have come to offer her a partnership. Just like something broke in her the day she lost both of her parents. Time didn’t heal wounds, humans did, and that’s what they had done these last two years. Healing each other.

She didn’t want to think about the future right now because it promised no happy ending. Their moments of tenderness weren’t enough. Tonight was about staying, but someday, maybe tomorrow, maybe in ten years, they’ll leave each other.

Because freedom according to Zulema meant to live without fear. And every day, they felt afraid of each other and what they could be.

She closed her eyes as she withdrew her hand from Zulema’s face.

“Okay, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” She whispered.

Zulema nodded, understanding, and raised her hands toward the nightstand to turn off the light.

  
  


**FIN**


End file.
